


This is the life

by Gilrael



Series: Urban Fantasy AU [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Bokuto is an artist, Eventual Fluff, Getting Together, I don't know, M/M, Magic, POV First Person, Slow Burn, akaashi is grumpy, it just happens, kuroo wants his favourite owl to be happy, more tags will be added as I go, why do people in this AU tend to get blackout drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-04 18:04:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5343419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gilrael/pseuds/Gilrael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That's when I notice the phone number written on my left arm in black marker.<br/>Next to it someone scrawled the words “Call me!!!” and a drawing of an owl.<br/>What the fuck did I do yesterday?<br/>~<br/>Akaashi Keiji's life has been one big disappointment. While all of his friends went to Nekoma or Karasuno Academy, he never developed any magical powers. His work at Fukurōdani's students' office might be the closest he'll ever get to the world of magic, but it's not going to make him happy in the long run, and he knows it.<br/>But then he meets Bokuto Kōtarō and realises that there is more to life than magic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Numbers in magic ink

**Author's Note:**

> My first time writing BokuAka, yay! This is set in the same universe as Black Feather, one month after Daichi took over the café from his uncle. You won't need to read Black Feather to understand what's going on, but it will probably help.  
> I still need to do some planning for this fic, but I already have a rough idea where this is going. Hope you enjoy!

There's sunlight coming through a gap in my curtains and it's shining directly on my face. It could be comfortable, warm and nice, but it isn't.

Why did I let Lev talk me into partying with him, Yaku and Inuoka? I should've gone home after the first beer. Instead I'm nursing a massive headache that's only getting worse the longer the sun shines on my face.

I don't want to move. I don't want to go to work today. I don't want to go through the application letters that have been piling up on my desk.

I want to sleep. I want this hangover to be over. I want to stay home and work on my painting.

And then my alarm clock goes off, forcing me to move, so I can turn off the aggravating ringing. Sighing, I rub my forehead and get up. On my way to the kitchen, I stumble over the clothes I left lying on the floor, but I can't be bothered to pick them up right now. That'll have to wait until I'm home from work.

I start making coffee and rummage through my medicine cabinet in search for painkillers.

That's when I notice the phone number written on my left arm in black marker.

Next to it someone scrawled the words “Call me!!!” and a drawing of an owl.

What the fuck did I do yesterday?

Shaking my head, I grab the bottle of pills and swallow one of them, before heading into the bathroom to take a shower.

The warm water helps clear my head, but no matter how hard I scrub the ink on my arm won't come off. It was probably one of those stupid markers that can only be erased with magic. At least nobody drew a dick on my face while I was sleeping, like on Lev's twentieth birthday. I'll have to ask Yaku to help me out with this later.

Stupid magicians with their magic ink, always reminding me that I'm useless and mundane.

At least the owl is really well drawn. And kinda cute.

Groggily, I turn off the water and grab a towel. Hopefully Yaku is not as hungover as I am, or we won't be getting any work done today.

I drag myself back into the kitchen, where I drink my coffee before getting dressed.

Stepping outside my flat, I'm once again annoyed at how bright it is outside. At least the painkiller is starting to work.

 

***

 

Walking across Fukurōdani Academy's campus used to feel really exciting. The place always hums with the voices of students and professors. The magic in the air is almost tangible. I used to think that maybe my job at the student's office would make me a part of this magic.

Nowadays, four years after coming here for the first time, I'm painfully aware of the fact that I will never belong. I just can't do magic, no matter how hard I try. I'm replaceable, just another mundane human being that will never achieve anything in life.

I open the office door to find Yaku already sitting at his desk.

“Morning.”

“Morning, Akaashi,” he replies. “Did you get home alright last night?”

I shrug and take off my jacket. “I guess. But I do feel like crap right now.”

He laughs. “Me too.”

It's warm inside the office. Why did I wear long sleeves again? Oh right.

“Hey, can you help me with this?” I ask Yaku, while I roll up my sleeves. “I think it's written in magic ink.”

A grin spreads across my co-worker's face. “So he gave you his number?”

What?

“Who are you talking about? Do you know whose number this is?”

“Well, yesterday you were dancing with this guy at the club and he kinda reminded me of an owl...”

I take another look at the cute little owl on my arm. I actually danced with someone? Someone who looked like an owl?

“Anyway, can you get rid of this for me?”

Yaku raises an eyebrow. “Did you already save that number in your phone?”

I shake my head. Why would I?

“I'm sorry Akaashi, but I won't remove it, until you've called him,” he says and turns back towards the screen of his computer.

“Why?”

“Because you seemed to enjoy yourself yesterday. That doesn't happen very often.”

If I enjoyed myself so much, why don't I remember anything?

 

***

 

By the end of the workday I haven't managed to convince Yaku to erase the number from my arm. It's frustrating, to say the least.

“You can't let me walk around with this for the rest of my life,” I tell him, but my co-worker looks at me with a face that says that he's prepared to do just that.

“I'll find somebody else to help me,” I insist.

“I already texted Lev and Inuoka,” Yaku says. “They won't help you.”

Damn it. Why did I have to move to Tokyo after high school? I could've stayed in Sendai with Daichi. He wouldn't do this to me. He would've surely helped me to get rid of this.

“Will you do it if I save the number in my phone?” I plead, since I seriously don't want to have another student look at me funny, because there's a freaking bird drawn on my wrist.

“If you call him immediately afterwards, yes,” Yaku says, smiling evilly.

Sighing, I grab my phone and type out the number. Reluctantly, I press the call button.

“You happy now?”

Yaku nods smugly.

Too preoccupied with being irritated, I'm startled when someone actually picks up the phone.

“Yes?”

“Erm...” Fuck. I don't remember anything. Not how he looks, much less his name. “This is Akaashi Keiji...”

“Akaashi! You actually called!” The voice on the other end of the line is entirely too happy about this.

“Uh, yes, I did,” I reply lamely. “Uh...”

“So you're actually interested in seeing my exhibition?” the stranger asks excitedly and I wonder what the heck we were talking about at the club.

“To be honest... I don't remember anything that happened yesterday,” I admit, because there's no use in lying to this guy.

“Oh.”

The silence that follows is almost unbearable.

“I'm sorry, but I was really drunk, uh... What was your name again?”

“Bokuto Kōtarō,” he says in a small voice. I think I just hurt his feelings. Damn.

“So Bokuto-san... When and where is that exhibition going to be?” I ask before I can stop myself. Yaku is grinning it a me broadly. I frown back at him. This is entirely his fault.

“It's in the old gym at Fukurōdani on Saturday.” There's hope sneaking back into Bokuto-san's voice and I can't bring myself to disappoint him again.

“I'll be able to make it then.”

“Really?! Yay!”

I'm entirely too nice to strangers, and I know I will regret this come Saturday. But something about Bokut-san's excitement makes me feel at ease. He blabbers on and on about how great it will be and that I'll definitely like his sculptures and that this is his first art exhibit since he finished academy last year.

“I'm looking forward to it,” I say, cutting him off. “I'll see you on Saturday.”

“It's going to be awesome! See you, Akaashi!”

I end the call and hold my arm out to Yaku, who instantly starts muttering under his breath and rubs his palm across my arm twice.

“Thank you,” I say curtly and grab my jacket.

“For getting you a date with Mr Owl?” He's grinning over both his ears. I choose to ignore his comment for the sake of our friendship.

“See you tomorrow,” I say and leave the office.

Finally, I can go back home and finish the painting I've been working on the past few days.


	2. Owls and coffee

Being on campus on a weekend is eerily quiet. Most students are probably still sleeping off Friday night's alcohol buzz in their dorms.

When I started here it felt like I was just like them. I was eighteen and living in a flat with Yaku, who was in his second year at Nekoma at the time and fled his annoying room mate by moving out of the dorms. He was my first friend in Tokyo, dragged me along, introduced me to Lev and Inuoka and never seemed to care that I wasn't a magician like them.

Now that he's moved in with Lev I feel more isolated than I ever thought I would. It's not reasonable to feel this way. I see him every day at work and on the weekends we constantly meet up for coffee or drinks. I'm still part of the group, which is evidenced by the fact that Lev called me on the day of his and Inuoka's graduation and invited me to go clubbing with them in the evening.

And because of that invitation I drank too much and ended up dancing with a stranger who then invited me to the art show of some Fukurōdani alumni.

I make my way towards the disused old gym. There are plans to demolish it next year and build a new lecture hall in its place. Until then it's used for all sorts of events. There are a bunch of people standing in front of it, satisfying their nicotine addiction. None of the smokers particularly remind me of an owl, so I'm guessing Bokuto-san isn't amongst them. Trying to be polite, I nod at them in greeting and enter the gym. There are sculptures and easels with paintings everywhere.

I don't know exactly why I'm here. Did I really let Yaku talk me into calling Bokuto-san's number, only because I wanted him to get rid of the marker on my arm? Why didn't I tell Bokuto that I'm not interested in seeing his art?

It's all a mystery to me.

I look around the room, trying to find someone who matches the description Yaku gave me.

“Akaashi!” someone yells and it sounds familiar. I turn my head and as soon as my eyes fall on him, I remember.

I remember leaning against the bar at the club, observing a guy with spiked up hair that was an unusual black and grey colour. I remember the way he danced like he didn't care who was watching him. Most of all, I remember those amber eyes – round, big, almost glowing in the dim light of the club. Now I also know why I drank that much. I tried to gather courage to talk to him.

Yaku described him as owl-like. In a way he's right.

“Bokuto-san?” I ask, to make sure that he is the one I talked to on the phone.

“Yes!” he replies with the biggest grin on his face. “I'm glad you came!”

The way his eyes crinkle is distracting. It makes me forget how to be polite and stare at him instead.

“Come on, let me show you around!” Bokuto-san says excitedly, grabbing my arm and leading me to one of the sculptures in the front of the gym. It's abstract, different kinds of minerals bleeding into each other in a way that can only be achieved with transfiguration magic. I can barely appreciate it, though, because my body is burning under Bokuto-san's touch, despite the layer of cloth between our skin.

I'm not used to strangers touching me.

He says something about one of his former classmates, the artist behind the sculpture, but all that I register is the way his voice sounds; the words don't really stick with me.

What the heck is wrong with me?

I gently remove my arm from Bokuto-san's grip and force myself to focus on what he's saying.

“... Sarukui doesn't really have a preference in medium, as long as he can experiment with colours, you know?”

This situation is weird. First of all, I don't understand how anyone can be so excited about anything, but most importantly, Bokuto-san acts like he's known me for a long time. He acts like I'm his friend although this is only the second time I see him, and he knows that I barely remember anything from the first time we met.

He leads me to an easel next. There's a jagged plank of wood with a landscape painted on it. The sky is slowly changing colours from blue to violet.

“See? Sarukui is all about experimenting with colour,” Bokuto-san says matter-of-factly.

“It's very expressive.”

My skin is crawling uncomfortably. I feel really out of place here.

Bokuto-san doesn't notice my discomfort. He leads me from artwork to artwork, rambling happily about his former classmates. He graduated from Fukurōdani with a degree in art – something I wanted to achieve when I still had hopes of developing magic ability.

I can't enchant paint in a way that makes it change colour. I can't animate images without using a computer.

But none of this is Bokuto-san's fault, so I grit my teeth and force myself to stop these unreasonable thoughts. I really hope that he's no good at reading auras, because mine must be green with envy. I might have perfected my poker face, but I'll never be able to stop a magician from reading my emotions. They are invisible to us mundane people, but to most magicians we are open books.

I take a deep breath. Bokuto-san turns his head, looking at me quizzically. “Everything alright?”

I nod and smile at him. He returns it with so much enthusiasm that I can't help but feel happier. For some reason he wants to share this with me, a stranger.

Bokuto-san makes it easy to be around him.

After a while I find myself asking questions about the techniques behind the paintings and sculptures. He answers them with an air of professionalism that doesn't suit him. It's strangely endearing.

And then my eyes fall on a sculpture at the back of the room. An owl perched atop a stack of books that have been torn up. It's mostly made of greyish wood and metal and its wings are spread like it's about to take flight.

Without thinking, I move towards it. I'm surprised that I haven't noticed it before, since it's kinda huge.

When I come to stand right in front of it, I notice that it's roughly the same height as me. I feel like the owl is looking at me. The eyes are made of thin sheets of amber. There are insects enclosed in them.

I let my eyes travel over the uneven mixture of wood and metal that make up the owls body, down to the books. Some of them have scorch marks.

It's impressive. Really impressive and...

“... beautiful.”

I only notice that I said that out loud, when Bokuto-san makes an excited sound next to me.

“You think so?” he asks, eyes wide.

There's absolutely no sense in lying. “Um... yeah.”

Bokuto-san looks extremely pleased with himself.

“I made it.”

My lips involuntarily twitch into a smile. Why am I not surprised?

“Why did you destroy the books?” I ask.

“Because books can only teach you a fraction of the things you need to know,” he replies instantly. “True wisdom comes with experience.”

“Ah.”

Interesting.

“How long did it take to make this thing?”

“Erm, three months, I think?” he estimates, shrugging. “I worked on it every night after I was done with my day job.”

“Day job?”

“I work as an illustrator for children's books.” He shrugs. “It pays the bills, but I prefer sculptures.”

I look back at the owl. It doesn't look like something out of a children's book. Then I remember the owl he'd drawn on my arm. It was cute, very unlike this majestic creature in front of me. I'm not sure what that says about Bokuto-san. I'm not even sure if it should say anything about him.

“There's still some stuff you haven't seen yet, so lets go!” He grabs my arm and once again I let him drag me around without resistance.

I've never been this comfortable with a stranger touching me.

 

***

 

Afterwards, Bokuto-san invites me out for a coffee. I agree, because I have nothing else to do. We go to a café on campus, the one where I spend most of my lunch breaks with Yaku. The coffee is good and the food is reasonably priced.

“So...” Bokuto-san says after we placed our orders. “Did you enjoy the exhibition?”

“It was good. I especially liked your sculpture.”

“Thank you!” There's a faint blush colouring his cheeks as he puffs out his chest proudly. It's oddly satisfying to see him react to my compliment in such a fashion.

We talk for a while. The waitress brings us our coffee and we talk some more. It's comfortable, a lot more comfortable than I thought it would be. Bokuto-san is a little over the top and brash, but also very kind. The conversation flows effortlessly, until...

“I still remember the first time I saw you at the students' office, you know?” he suddenly says, setting down his espresso. “I was freaking out, because my grades weren't showing up online, and you helped me figure out what the problem was...”

I never took into account that I might have seen him before, but that was stupid. He can't be much older than I am and he graduated from Fukurōdani. At some point in their studies most students show up at my office, because they have trouble with the online system or messed up some deadline and need an extension. Why would Bokuto be an exception to that?

“I'm sorry, but I don't remember.” Déjà-vu, but this time I can actually see his disappointment and not just feel it radiating through the phone.

“You don't remember a lot of things,” he mutters, pouting.

“I deal with so many students every day, I can't remember everyone,” I explain hastily.

“But you also don't remember that night at the club,” he huffs and folds his arms in front of his chest.

I want to reach out and pet his crazy hair to comfort him.

What the fuck is _wrong_ with me?

“But now that I've seen your face, I remember...” Oh no, why am saying this? “... that you were there.” This is going to end in disaster. “I liked the way you danced.”

He looks up at me, a glimmer of hope replacing the dejected emptiness in his eyes. “You liked they way I danced?”

“Yes?” It sounds more like a question than a statement, but it still manages to put Bokuto-san's smile back in place.

“But I don't remember talking to you,” I add to make sure that he doesn't misunderstand me. “Sorry.”

“If you like my dancing we should go out together,” he suggests, completely ignoring my last sentence.

My mouth moves before my brain can wrap itself around his words. “That'd be nice.”

“Great! How about next Friday? Do you have time next Friday?”

I lift my cup of coffee to my mouth, before it acts without my permission again. Do I actually want to do this?

Who am I kidding, of course I want to.

“I should be free on Friday.”

“Woohoo!” The grin on his face stretches wide. “It's a date!”

Wait a second. Date? What have I gotten myself into?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, Akaashi's inner monologue is hard to figure out...
> 
> [My tumblr](http://gilrael.tumblr.com)


	3. This is not a date (or is it?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, this took so long to write and I don't even know why. Hope you enjoy the end result xD

I've been staring at the canvas for what feels like an hour, but I haven't even picked up the brush yet. After seeing the work of Bokuto-san and the other Fukurōdani alumni, I feel inadequate. Nothing I paint will ever be put in a gallery. Who would care for my boring portraits? They'll never be as eye-catching as I want them to be. My family and friends all say that my paintings are good the way they are, but of course they would.

I should've stuck with digital art, where nobody would ever notice the lack of magic, but drawing on a tablet feels so different from using a paintbrush. I wish I could make the leaves in the background move in the wind. I wish I could add a little spark to my nieces eyes, so the painting would feel alive. The stylised leaves, however, remain still and the bright highlights in her eyes seem flat to me.

I think this one will go in my collection of paintings that I gave up on. My sister will be disappointed, if I go back on my promise to draw her daughter, but I can't just give her something as dull as this.

Sighing, I get up and go into the kitchen to make myself dinner. I haven't eaten anything since I went out to the art show; I've only had coffee.

While I fry up some leftover rice, I wonder if Bokuto-san ever feels like this. He seems so energetic and passionate when he talks about his work. Okay, not just when he talks about his work. He seems to be really excitable in general. His personality is very different from mine.

Suddenly, my phone gives a short bleep. It's a message from Yaku.

 

From: Yaku Morisuke

> How was the date?

 

To: Yaku Morisuke

> it wasn't a date and it was fine

 

I actually had fun, now that I think about it.

 

From: Yaku Morisuke

> Lev wants to know whether you'll meet up with Bokuto again

 

“ _Woohoo! It's a date!”_

“ _A date?”_ _I choked out, but Bokuto-san didn't seem to hear me._

“ _Ooooh, I'll ask my friends to come along as well,” he suggested. “You'll like Kuroo and Kenma. And maybe you could ask those guys that were with you last time. They seemed fun.”_

 

To: Yaku Morisuke

> i'm going to the club with him and his friends on friday, you're invited as well

 

From: Yaku Morisuke

> I don't want to intrude on your date

 

A frown creeps up on my face.

 

To: Yaku Morisuke

> it's not a date, his FRIENDS will be there and you, lev and inuoka will be as well

 

Hopefully that's enough to make him shut up about “dates”.

 

***

 

It was enough to shut up Yaku, but Lev won't stop.

Monday evening after work, Yaku invited me over for dinner at their place, and ever since we've put away our plates and settled down in the living room, Lev's been trying to argue with me. He is absolutely convinced that I have a crush on Bokuto-san, which would be silly. I barely know the guy and I'm not going to throw myself at him, just because he seems nice.

“But you agreed to go on a date with him!” Lev whines, throwing up his ridiculously long arms to emphasise his point.

“Lev, leave him alone,” Yaku growls, throwing a couch cushion at his boyfriend.

“Hypocrite,” I mutter under my breath. If it hadn't been for Yaku I'd never have gone to Bokuto-san's exhibit.

Lev pouts. “I just think it would be nice for Akaashi to get himself a boyfriend.”

“I'm plenty happy without a relationship, thank you very much.”

Admittedly, I haven't been in a relationship since I left Sendai for Tokyo, but the friends I made here make up for the lack of romance in my life. The drama that surrounded the start of Lev and Yaku's relationship was enough to last everyone in our group of friends a lifetime.

“We're going clubbing as friends,” I explain, once again, because Lev still looks like he doesn't believe me. “Bokuto-san actually asked me to bring you guys with me.”

“But you really hit if off last week...” Lev mumbles dejectedly.

“I don't remember 'hitting it off' with anyone,” I say curtly. Lev is a great guy, really, but he doesn't know when to quit.

“How can you not remember making out with a hot guy in the middle of the dance floor?!”

Wait. I did not. I did not make out with Bokuto-san. I would've remembered that, wouldn't I?

I turn to Yaku, utter disbelief probably written all across my face.

“Please tell me that Lev is making this shit up.”

“Uh, not exactly,” Yaku replies, scratching the back of his head.

Oh fuck. I'm never drinking again. _Never_ will I touch another alcoholic beverage. 

Groaning, I let my head fall against the back of the couch. “Why didn't you stop me from drinking so much?”

“You can hold your liquor, usually.” Yaku shrugs. “And you seemed to be having fun, so...”

Ugh. Of course Bokuto-san would be sad that I don't remember anything. I'm surprised he was still willing to give me a chance at all! So maybe I finally have to admit to myself that next Friday is going to be a date after all.

 

***

 

By the time Friday comes around, I'm a mess. At night my brain has been too busy with thinking about all the things that could go wrong tonight, so I'm sleep deprived and irritable. It doesn't help that I have to help Yaku and the professors out with the entrance exams today.

Yaku and I are in charge of testing for magic ability and it's my job to document the results, while Yaku does the explaining and takes care of the paraphernalia. It's the worst part of my job. It's boring mostly, since the testing is just a formality. People usually don't bother applying at an academy, if they aren't sure they have talent, and most parents who are magicians themselves teach their kids a spell or two while they're still in high school.

Watching young adults light candles for hours on end is tedious. Occasionally, there will be someone older who had to work to save up some money for their education. Fukurōdani, like most other academies, has exorbitantly high tuition fees. Not everyone can afford to go to one.

Personally, my parents would've had the money to pay for my education, but I don't need it. I simply started working straight out of high school. I'm one of very few people in my family who turned out to be mundane. My lack of interest in women was less of a shock to my family than my inability to produce even the smallest spark through willpower.

“... then you rub your fingers together, focus on the wick of the candle and say...”

I've heard Yaku explain fire spells all morning. The examinees either look bored at his sermon or nervous as fuck, there's barely any in between.

This girl seems to know the drill already. She takes a deep breath, rubs her fingers, says the words and instantly produces a spark that's big enough to light the red candle in front of her.

I look down at her documents and write down the result, while Yaku tells her what's going to happen next.

 

_After being instructed by examiner Yaku Morisuke, Suzumeda Kaori was able to successfully light a candle on the first try._

 

I sign in the place of the witness, put the academy's seal on it and pass the sheet to Yaku. He scribbles his signature next to mine and hands her the document.

“Good luck with the exam this afternoon,” he says, smiling.

Suzumeda-san bows her head. “Thank you.”

As soon as she's out of the door, I heave a sigh of relief. “Two more to go and then we're done for today.”

“Thank god,” Yaku breathes out and rubs his forehead. “Examination day is the worst. Hopefully this will be the last one for me...”

He only took the job at Fukurōdani's students' office to save up money for his post-grad at Nekoma. He wants to teach elemental magic one day.

Admittedly, I'm a little jealous of him. Unlike me, he has the chance of doing something useful with his life.

“I'll send the next one in,” I say, trying to keep my tone neutral.

 

 

***

 

My friends and I are standing in front of our favourite club, waiting for the others to show up. The mere thought of seeing Bokuto-san tonight turns me into a nervous wreck.

I put on my nicest pair of black skinny jeans and a blue button-down. Yaku says the outfit looks good on me and I trust him. Inuoka constantly repeats that everything will be fine. Lev still insists that I have a crush.

“I do _not_ have a crush,” I retort for what feels like the hundredth time. “I am, however, going on a date with a guy whom I don't remember kissing.”

Inuoka shakes his head disbelievingly. “You pick the worst times to get blackout drunk. First Lev's birthday where you ended up with dicks drawn all over your face...”

“You drew one of them and I know it,” I interrupt. “Yaku told me, because he's an actual friend. And I was nervous last week, okay?”

“Hah! You _do_ have a –” Lev doesn't get to finish his sentence, because a strangled noise leaves my throat, when I see Bokuto-san approaching us. He looks so goddamn flashy with his spiked up hair, but I'd be lying if I said that it doesn't suit him.

He's waving at us with the biggest smile on his face. I wave back tentatively.

“Wait a second,” Yaku says, before Bokuto-san is in earshot, “isn't that Kuroo?”

Only then do I notice the couple walking next to Bokuto-san, holding hands like they currently aren't being stared at by half of Tokyo's population. One of them is tall, with black hair that looks like he just got out of bed, the other is considerably shorter and looks utterly bored. His hair is bleached, but he doesn't seem to bother with touching up his roots.

“Akaashi!” Bokuto-san yells, when they are only a couple of steps away from us. “You guys could've already gone inside.”

I shrug. “The weather is nice.”

Did that sound stupid? Probably, but I'm not going to tell him that I need the fresh air to stay relatively calm.

“Ohoho!” Bokuto-san's tall friend smirks down at Yaku. “I haven't seen you in ages, Yaku-san!”

“Yeah, it's been a while.”

“You know him already Kuroo?” Bokuto-san seems curious.

“We were in the same year at Nekoma,” Kuroo-san explains. “We didn't have many classes together, though.”

“Different fields of study and all,” Yaku says, shrugging.

After a round of introductions, we stand in line to pay the entrance fee. Kuroo-san's boyfriend Kenma, immediately pulls out his phone, while everyone else talks about nothing in particular. I try to keep track of the conversation, but it's hard, because Bokuto-san has apparently decided to stand as close to me as possible. His arm is touching mine and it feels just like that time when he grabbed my arm at the art show – hot and distracting.

This is going to be a long night.

Once inside, we make our way to the bar for the first round of drinks. I order a coke, because I vowed to myself that I wouldn't touch alcohol tonight. Should I end up snogging Bokuto-san in public, I at least want to remember it this time. I highly doubt that that is going to happen again, though.

“Let me pay for that,” Bokuto-san says as the bartender puts down the glass bottle in front of me. I want to protest, but he's already handed over the money.

“That was really not necessary,” I say, unable to keep the frown off my face. This might be a date, but I'm perfectly capable of paying for myself.

Bokuto-san looks at me with the most disarming smile I have ever seen in my entire life. “You can pay for my next drink.”

“Kenma found us a table,” Kuroo-san says, steering us around the dance floor towards one of the round booths on the other side of the club. Kenma-san is already sitting there, playing on his PSP. He doesn't seem to be very sociable.

The booth is a little small for seven people and I end up wedged between Inuoka and Bokuto-san, but I instantly notice the main reason why we prefer this club over others. They actually bothered to put up a magic sound barrier between the booths and the rest of the club so you can hold an actual conversation when you're not busy dancing. As soon as you're behind the barrier the music fades to soft background noise.

“What do you guys do? For work I mean,” Bokuto-san asks, slightly shifting his position so that our thighs are touching. I'm not sure whether I'm comfortable with that, but the space is limited, so I can't do anything about it.

“Lev and I just graduated form Nekoma and are job hunting,” Inuoka replies.

“What kind of degree did you get?” Kuroo-san actually sounds a little curious. He seems to be the exact opposite of his boyfriend.

“We're both chemists,” Lev says, proudly puffing out his chest, because the chemistry program at Nekoma Academy is one of the best in the country.

“And you?” Bokuto-san turns towards Yaku, “What do you do?”

“I'm doing student advisory at Fukurōdani, until I have enough money saved up to go back to Nekoma for a teaching degree.”

Bokuto-san turns to look at me. “Oh, so you're with Akaashi at the students' office?”

Damn, his face is close. My mouth feels dry, so I nod instead of saying anything. This guy is going to be the death of me.

“Yeah, well, they needed someone to take over the testing and Akaashi suggested me for the job.” Yaku smiles at me. I smile back and try to ignore how Bokuto-san's arm brushes against mine when he lifts his drink to his lips.

“What about you?” I turn to Kuroo-san and Kenma-san to distract myself.

“Kenma studied game design at uni and works for a company that makes smart phone apps,” Kuroo-san says, smiling fondly, while his boyfriend just nods. This either means that Kenma-san couldn't afford an academy or that he's mundane like me. The thought is slightly comforting.

“I have an art degree from Nekoma and am currently doing whatever freelance work I come across,” Kuroo-san adds with a sigh.

Bokuto-san pats his shoulder. “Not everyone can be lucky and score a position at as illustrator at a publishing house.”

“Which publishing house are you talking about?” Inuoka asks.

“I'm working for Minami Publishing.”

“Cool! That's where my girlfriend published her first novel recently.”

Kuroo-san lifts an eyebrow. “Girlfriend?”

“He's our token straight guy,” Lev explains, earning a groan from Yaku, and making Bokuto-san and Kuroo-san laugh out loud.

“Why didn't you bring her?” Bokuto-san leans over to Inuoka, which means that his hair is right in front of my nose. It smells like gel, but not the icky kind. It's actually quite pleasant.

“It's a long distance relationship.” Inuoka sighs and rests his face on his hands, elbows propped up on the table. This leads to a discussion about how much it sucks to be in a long distance relationship (Kuroo-san and Kenma-san had to go through that for a year). And then everyone is done with their drinks, which we take as a cue to move towards the dance floor. Kenma-san stays back with his PSP, arguing that dancing makes him tired. That way we'll also have a place to come back to, whenever we've had enough.

 

***

 

We started out dancing as a group, but slowly got separated in the crowd. Now I'm alone with Bokuto-san and he's closer to me than he's been all night.

Technically, I'm sober. There's no alcohol in my veins, but I feel drunk. It's the loud music, the bass vibrating through my body, and also the way Bokuto-san is constantly smiling at me, like he enjoys my presence. He places one of his hands on my hips, and I make no move to shake it off. It feels good, dancing with him like this, moving to the beat, letting the music take over.

I barely realise that I've also placed a hand on his hips, while I brush the hair from my sweaty forehead with the other.

It's warm in here and Bokuto-san makes it worse. He makes everything worse.

Or better?

I don't know. It's weird.

 

***

 

Bokuto-san and I went to sit down with Kenma-san for a while. I have a new bottle of coke and he's nursing his second rum and coke. I paid.

Kenma-san actually put his PSP away and is talking to us, about the music they are playing today. He's nice, if a little quiet. I think he might be bad with crowds, but that's just speculation at this point.

“Don't you feel bored, sitting here by yourself?” I ask him.

He shrugs. “It's fine. I brought games to keep me company. Kuro also stops by occasionally.”

“It's always like this when we go clubbing,” Bokuto-san adds. “Kenma really doesn't like dancing.”

“Not at clubs, anyway,” Kenma-san mutters and takes a sip of his orange soda.

Bokuto-san has interesting friends. Everything about him qualifies as interesting.

Suddenly, Kenma-san gets up and excuses himself to the restroom.

“Hey, can I ask you a couple of things about yourself?” Bokuto-san asks, leaning a little closer to me.

“Go ahead.”

“Do you have any hobbies? We talked about mine extensively last week, so...”

It's a rather innocent question, but I'm not sure if I want to answer it. If I tell him that I spend most of my free time painting, when I'm not meeting my friends, he might want to see my art.

“Erm...”

“Is it an embarrassing hobby or something?” Of course, he notices my hesitation. “I promise I won't laugh.”

“Uh, I paint.”

His eyes go wide and there's a spark in them that is hard to describe. It's more than simple excitement, I think.

“So that's why you weren't annoyed with me talking about art all day,” he realises, chuckling happily. “Did you take art classes at academy?”

Okay, now I'm confused. Did I ever give off the impression that I am a magician? And how old does he think I am? I started working at Fukurōdani the same year Lev and Inuoka started going to Nekoma, so I'm barely old enough to have finished a degree at an academy, and Bokuto-san graduated a year ago.

“I'm twenty-two years old, Bokuto-san,” I say matter-of-factly, because this is a misunderstanding that needs to be dealt with immediately.

His eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline. “You're younger than me?”

“Yes. And I'm mundane,” I add for good measure.

He loses control over his facial features and just stares at me, open-mouthed and wide-eyed – the perfect image of surprise. His reaction would be funny, if it didn't make me feel inadequate. I'm not what he expected me to be.

I'm a disappointment.

“Oh, sorry,” he finally says. “Uh... what's your favourite medium?”

His voice sounds timid all of a sudden. It's jarring compared to his previous fervour.

“I mostly use acrylics on canvas.” Like a fifteen-year-old kid who hasn't yet discovered his magic abilities.

“I'm not good with those,” Bokuto-san admits. “I use water colour for my illustrations...”

Yeah, this conversation suddenly turned awkward, but I've become used to that. Most people think that only magicians can work at an academy, but you don't need magic to handle a students' office. Bokuto-san will get over it eventually.

Kenma-san comes back, and I decide that it'll probably be easier, if Bokuto-san and I return to the dance floor, where we don't have to talk about my insufficiencies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos, comments, etc!


	4. Confidence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now I remember why I wrote Black Feather in third person. Writing in first person takes me so much longer...

It's a nice change of pace to wake up without a hangover after a night out with friends. I take advantage of my clear head and sit down on the couch with my sketchbook. I haven't used it in a while, because I was working on that painting that's still sitting on the easel, untouched ever since I came home from Bokuro-san's art exhibit.

I pull out my phone and open the picture of my niece that my sister sent me. Minako-chan is smiling at the camera, gap-toothed and with wind blowing her hair back. She's cute and lively, something I want to capture in my portrait. Maybe I can do her justice if I practice with pencil on paper first.

I spend most of my morning like that. The only sounds in my flat are the scratching of the pencil and the occasional sigh when I have to erase something. It's comforting, peaceful, familiar, and probably the only reason why I continued to draw and paint after I realised that I would never be a magician.

The bleeping sound from my phone makes me frown. I don't like being interrupted when I'm drawing, but maybe it's something important.

 

From: Unknown

> Hey, Akaashi! This is Kuroo. Wtf did you do to Bokuto last night?

 

The frown intensifies, while I add Kuroo-san's number to my contact list.

 

To: Kuroo Tetsurō

> i don't know what you are talking about. i didn't do anything. and who gave you my number?

 

From: Kuroo Tetsurō

> Then why is he sitting on my couch, crying about how he fucked up his chances with you??!?

> I looked up your number on his phone btw

 

Huh? How did Bokuto-san get that impression? I guess there was that one awkward moment, when I had to tell him that I'm mundane, but other than that the night went really well. He's funny, a good dancer and one hell of an attractive human being. I wouldn't mind getting to know him better.

 

To: Kuroo Tetsurō

> i have no idea why he'd think that

 

From: Kuroo Tetsurō

> Please tell him that he's wrong because I can't deal with his emo mode much longer. Ask him out or something

 

I can't imagine Bokuto-san ever being “emo”, but I don't know him that well yet. His thoughts are still a mystery to me. But if it cheers him up, I'll ask him out again. It's not like I don't want to see him.

 

To: Bokuto Kōtarō

> hello bokuto-san, i just wanted to tell you that i enjoyed seeing you last night. would you like to meet up again tomorrow?

 

He doesn't answer for a while, so I pick up my pencil and sketchbook again, but I don't draw anything. I just stare at the sketch, still trying to figure out how Bokuto-san got the impression that I dislike him. Does he think that I was offended by him thinking that I'm a magician? That would be weird, though. Who'd be offended by that? I wasn't exactly happy about it either, but it was an honest mistake.

The bleep of a new message rips me from my thoughts.

 

From: Bokuto Kōtarō

> I enjoyed it too and I'd love to meet up! Where do you wanna go? ^(OvO)^

 

Well, that doesn't sound emo at all. He even added an owl at the end of his message. One day I'll have to ask him what's up with that.

 

***

 

We end up going to a ramen place for lunch. Bokuto-san is as lively as always, slurping his noodles with too much enthusiasm. There's no trace of dejection whatsoever. I'm not sure if that's because Kuroo-san was exaggerating in his texts, or because of me. I'm not going to ask.

Instead, we talk about the films we've seen recently. Bokuto-san is a huge fan of animated films and he also likes action – the more explosions the better.

“I loved that scene where he throws a fire ball at the gas tanks,” he tells me, gesticulating with his chopsticks. “That was one of the best explosions I have ever seen on film.”

“No police officer would actually do that, though,” I argue, remembering how Daichi always complains about how unrealistic the conduct of fictional policemen is. “I have a friend who has a degree in law enforcement and he told me that you're not allowed to use elemental magic except for emergencies.”

“I think that counted as an emergency,” Bokuto-san retorts huffily. “Also it was awesome.”

A smile creeps up on my face and I turn to my bowl of ramen, before it gets cold.

 

***

 

After lunch, Bokuto-san invites me to see the studio he shares with Kuroo-san. It's not far from the restaurant and there's still some time until I'm going to meet with Lev and Yaku, so I agree.

The studio isn't very big, but it has large windows that let in a lot of light. It's clear which side Bokuto-san has claimed as his work space, because it's littered with different kinds of wire, wood and pieces of metal, materials which he seems to favour for his sculptures.

Kuroo-san's side is just as disorganised. Apparently he prepares his canvases himself, since all the tools for that are lying on his desk.

Aside from tools and materials the studio is filled with artwork. There's a smaller version of the owl Bokuto-san displayed at the exhibit and a bunch of watercolour paintings that must be part of his work as an illustrator for children's books.

“It's not much,” he says, scratching the back of his head, “but I like it. It's better than working form home. I'd never do anything productive there.”

“And you can be productive with Kuroo-san there?” I ask, unable to keep the amusement out of my voice.

“He can be distracting at times,” Bokuto-san admits, grinning, but immediately changes the subject. “Do you wanna see what I'm currently working on?”

Of course I'm curious, so I nod. He drags me over to his desk and grabs a stack of thick paper.

“I'm really excited about this book,” he says as he spreads out the illustrations in front of me. Most of them already seem to be finished, while the last two are still pencil sketches with no watercolour added yet. It doesn't take me long to notice why he's so excited.

The story seems to be about a bunch of different birds, and amongst them is an owl. Obviously.

“Seriously, Bokuto-san, what's with the owls?” I ask.

“They are the coolest birds,” he replies. “And I like drawing them.”

That makes me laugh. “You're weird.”

“Hey!” He turns his face towards me, pouting.

Damn, he can be adorable, but that will be the last thing I'll ever tell him.

“Aren't you going to enchant the paintings?” I say instead, because I've noticed that there's absolutely no movement or change of colours going on.

“I would, but it won't be possible to replicate in print.” He shrugs. “It's not like everything has to be done with magic. You don't use enchantments on your art either.”

That comment stings. It's not like I have a choice. I can't be mad at Bokuto-san, however. It's not like he does it on purpose.

“I'm not a professional, though,” I say. My voice sounds a little more clipped than I want it to, so I add, “I like the style. It's very different from your sculptures.”

That earns me one of Bokuto-san's bright smiles. He's like a small child looking for confirmation from an adult. Sometimes it is hard to believe that he's a year older than me.

 

***

 

I take off my shoes and step inside my flat with a sigh. It has been one hell of a weekend. First that Friday night at the club and then lunch with Bokuto-san today. I don't know how he manages to be so good at accidentally hitting my weak points and be so endearing at the same time. It's exhausting, but also kinda exhilarating. I tried to explain it to Lev and Yaku, but I don't think they understood me. This time around I couldn't deny the fact that I'm more than just slightly smitten with Bokuto-san and Lev had thrown his fists into the air in triumph when I admitted to it.

I throw my jacket aside, carelessly and go straight for the painting that is still sitting on the easel.

“ _It's not like everything has to be done with magic. You don't use enchantments on your art either.”_

Bokuto-san's words have been popping up inside my head again and again, since I said goodbye to him.

I take a closer look at the painting, before I get out all the paints and brushes I need to finish it. There's not much left to do, just a little more detail in her hair and her eyes. I choose the smallest brushes I own, mix up the colours I need and then I take a deep breath.

It's not going to be perfect, but it'll be as close to perfect as one can get without magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was a rather short chapter, but I still hope you enjoyed it :)
> 
> [my tumblr](http://gilrael.tumblr.com)


	5. Encouragement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daichi makes an appearance.

The painting of Minako-chan is finished and I have already started the next one. I didn't sketch anything out beforehand, I'm not using a reference, I simply put the brush on the canvas and see what happens. This is so different from my usual process, but I'm having fun.

It doesn't have to be perfect and it's not going to be. Perfectionism is only holding me back. I think Bokuto-san will be proud of me.

I stop when I realise that it's way past midnight and I have to get up early for work the next morning. I blink at the canvas and see a grey owl with amber eyes staring back at me.

 

***

 

The next day I'm totally out of it. I'm doing my work mechanically, without thinking, because there is only one thing on my mind – Bokuto-san. Yaku keeps throwing me worried looks and I try to defuse them with a smile, but I think it might look strained.

To be honest, I'm scared. I'm scared, because I can't figure out Bokuto-san's pace. I'm terrified of how quickly I've fallen for him. It's like going through puberty all over again, but with less acne and more adult responsibilities.

I think it's time I took a little break.

In the evening I call my sister to tell her that I'm done with the portrait and that I'll go to Sendai for the weekend to give it to her.

On Tuesday morning I get a text from Bokuto-san asking me whether I want to have another lunch date on Saturday. I tell him that I already have plans to see my family and friends in Sendai.

 

From: Bokuto Kōtarō

> Oh... Another time then?

 

To: Bokuto Kōtarō

> maybe next week

 

***

 

“Uncle Keiji!” Minako-chan comes running at me as soon as I dropped my bags in the hallway of my sister's house. I ruffle her hair in greeting and sneak some sweets into her palm, so that her mother can't see them and scold me for spoiling her.

My niece looks up at me with glowing eyes.

“Hello, Keiji.” Suzume pulls me into a tight hug. It's been a while since I last saw her. As much as I like Tokyo, I always enjoy coming back home. Sometimes I wonder why I don't do it more often.

“Hi, nēchan,” I reply fondly and carefully extract myself from her arms. “I brought you a gift.”

I pick up one of the bags and hand it to her. She pulls out the portrait of her daughter and a smile appears on her face.

“It's wonderful!” she exclaims. “Thank you, Keiji.”

I would've never finished it if it hadn't been for Bokuto-san, but she doesn't need to know that. It'll be weird enough to tell my family, should I ever have the guts to start an actual relationship with him.

I follow Suzume into her living room, where she immediately sticks the portrait to the wall with magic. Meanwhile, Minako-chan runs off to her room and returns with a stack of crayon drawings. I really hope that she'll develop a talent for magic like her mother. I don't want her to suffer the same fate as me.

 

***

 

Since I'm in the area, I use the opportunity to visit an old friend on Saturday. A small bell chimes over my head as I enter the Black Feather. At once, I am welcomed by a very pretty woman.

“Welcome to the Black Feather,” she says in a quiet voice and bows her head. “How can I help you?”

“Uh, hello... I'm a friend of Daichi's. Is he here?” I ask, a little distracted by the blue eyes that glitter at me from behind her glasses. Damn. I usually don't notice women at all, but this waitress is something else entirely.

“He's upstairs in his office. I'll get him for you.” She turns around and vanishes through one of the doors behind the counter. I sit down on one of the barstools and wait.

“... her voice is like honey,” someone at a table behind me says.

“I'd do anything to hear her talk,” someone else agrees. I turn around to see two guys staring at the door through which the waitress disappeared, as if they could still see her after image. They look like love struck idiots. Well, if I notice her looks, it's not hard to imagine how it must be for straight men.

The waitress returns quickly, followed by Daichi. He looks a lot more stressed than I remember him.

“Oh, and Shimizu,” he says as he steps into his café, “remember the exercise I showed you yesterday. You're glamour is getting out of hand again.”

“I'm sorry,” she replies and closes her eyes. The effect is immediate. It's like someone emptied a bucket of cold water on my head. Shimizu-san is still pretty, but it's not even remotely as overwhelming as it was before.

“That's better.” Daichi smiles at her and turns towards me. “Oh, Akaashi! It's been ages!”

While he walks around the counter, I get up from my stool. “It's definitely been too long,” I agree and give him a short hug.

“Do you want coffee or tea? It's on me,” he offers, steering me towards a table in the back of the café.

“A green tea then.”

“Shimizu? Could you please make two cups of green tea?”

“I'll bring them to your table,” Shimizu-san replies.

Daichi and I sit down across one another. “Damn... What was up with that glamour?” I say, still a little shocked.

Daichi sighs and rubs his temples. “Aah well... Shimizu can't control them at all. She has a natural disposition for them,” he explains, sounding tired. “She can't afford an academy, though, so I've been trying to teach her after hours. I have no idea what I'm doing, but it's better than her accidentally glamouring every person she comes across. Especially since she's aro-ace. Lots of unwanted attention.”

He throws a withering look at the two guys at the front of the café. The short one with the spikey hair freezes up, while the one with the buzz cut slowly turns around. When his eyes meet Daichi's they widen with fear.

Yeah, Daichi can be really intimidating. He would've made one hell of a police officer if he'd actually wanted to be one.

“If I ever get promoted to another office, I'll try to change something about the budgeting for scholarships,” I say. It's ridiculous how hard it can be to get an education when you're poor.

Daichi smiles a little and changes subjects. “How's life in Tokyo?”

“It's fine, but I've felt a little lonely since Yaku moved out.”

“I know the feeling.” Daichi nods. “I've become so used to living in the dorms with Suga that I'm still confused when I wake up in my flat alone. And it's been a month!”

My ears perk up at the mention of Suga. “How are things with Suga anyway? Made any progress?”

Daichi groans and rests his head on the table. That is answer enough.

“You still haven't told him then?”

“Nooo...”

I still remember the day I received a panicked message from Daichi. It was shortly after I moved to Tokyo and he'd just started studying at Karasuno Academy.

 

_From: Sawamura Daichi_

_> Oh my fucking god. I think I'm gay for my roommate????_

 

Before that Daichi thought he was straight. He used to fancy the captain of the girls' volleyball team at our high school and he was really confused when I told him that I'm gay. He couldn't wrap his head around why I would like men. He was still nice about it, though. And then suddenly Sugawara Kōshi showed up and changed everything. Well, not everything. Daichi _is_ straight. Suga is just the exception.

Shimizu-san sets down two cups of tea on our table.

“Can I get you anything else?” she asks me, completely ignoring the fact that her boss is currently wallowing in self-pity.

“No thanks,” I reply with a polite smile and turn back to my friend. “You know he's gay, so why are you so scared of telling him?”

There was another text two months after Daichi's first freak out:

 

_From: Sawamura Daichi_

_> Holy shit. Suga told me that he's gay_

 

“Because he's my friend,” Daichi whines and straightens his back again. “I'm not going to risk my friendship with him, just because I want to snog him.”

“If you say so...” I pick up my cup of tea and take a sip. It's good. Better than the stuff they serve on campus.

“How about you? Any men in Tokyo tickle your fancy?”

I can feel my cheeks go hot and hide my face behind the cup. “There's this one guy,” I admit sheepishly.

“Oh.”

Why does Daichi look so surprised?

“I didn't expect that.”

“Why?”

“Because you've been single ever since you moved. I kinda thought you'd given up on dating.” Daichi shrugs. “So, who is he?”

Sighing, I put down my cup and rub my forehead. “His name is Bokuto Kōtarō and he's an artist.”

“Well, that sounds promising.” Daichi could probably decorate his entire flat with pictures I drew for him in high school, so he knows that I can get rather passionate about art sometimes.

“We've gone an a couple of dates and he's great, but...”

“But?”

That is a good question. What is holding me back? Why haven't I made a serious move on Bokuto-san yet? I've already admitted to my friends that I like him, so why don't I tell Bokuto-san? Why am I so fucking scared of this?

“I don't know.”

“He's a magician, isn't he?” Daichi suddenly asks.

Bullseye. Daichi knows me better than I do. He looks at me with a small, knowing smile.

“Don't worry. Being mundane doesn't equal being uninteresting,” he says. “He agreed to go on those dates, didn't he? So don't beat yourself up over it.”

It's moments like these that make me miss having Daichi around. He knows exactly what to say to encourage me.

“Tha–” I'm interrupted by the sound of my phone ringing. “Ugh, this might be my mum, wait a second.”

“It's fine.”

As it turns out it's not my mum, but Kuroo-san.

“Hello?”

“Hey, this is Kuroo,” he says. “Bokuto is freaking out again.”

“What?”

“He has convinced himself that you went to Sendai, because you are bored of him and don't want to see him anymore,” Kuroo-san explains curtly.

“That's bullshit.”

“I know, but Bokuto won't listen to me.” He sounds really annoyed. “I know that this is not really any of my business, but do you like him?”

Holy shit, I'm not prepared to have this conversation with Bokuto-san's best friend.

“Erm... Yes?”

“Thank goodness!” Kuroo-san heaves a sigh of relief. “If you could please tell him that you aren't fleeing from him that would be great.”

Suddenly, I feel a little guilty. In a way I _did_ flee to Sendai, but not for the reasons Bokuto-san came up with. 

“Or ask him out on another date again. That seemed to work last time,” Kuroo-san adds as an afterthought.

“I... Okay. I'll try my best.”

When I hang up the phone Daichi looks at me with raised eyebrows.

“That wasn't your mum, was it?” he asks, curiously.

“No. It was Bokuto-san's best friend,” I explain. It seems like Bokuto-san's ego is a lot more fragile than I would have ever imagined.

“I think you should tell me more about this Bokuto-san,” Daichi says, grinning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case it wasn't clear the two customers at the Black Feather are Tanaka and Noya ;) And as a little reminder: This happens a couple of years before Hinata starts working for Daichi.
> 
> Also this story is slowly reaching its end. There's only two chapters left :)


	6. Finding happiness

To: Bokuto Kōtarō

> i'll be back in tokyo by 7pm, you wanna meet up tonight?

 

I sent him this text when I woke up this morning, but when I board the train, he still hasn't answered. As soon as I've taken my seat, I send him another message.

 

To: Bokuto Kōtarō

> is everything alright?

 

I've never had to wait for an answer from Bokuto-san. It makes me feel antsy, like something bad has happened and nobody wants to tell me what's going on. I look out the window as the train leaves Sendai. The scenery flashes by too quickly to properly take it in, but my mind is preoccupied with other things anyway.

Is Bokuto-san ignoring me? Why would he do that? Kuroo-san said that Bokuto-san was freaking out, because he thought I was bored of him. Shouldn't he be happy then that I'm still interested in meeting up with him?

Or did something happen?

 

To: Bokuto Kōtarō

> are you still alive?

 

I don't like this. Not at all. It's not like Bokuto-san owes me anything. We went out on a couple of dates and that was it. This is not a relationship. If he wants to end it before it even started...

No.

I'm not going to let him end it before I tell him that I want more. Afterwards he can tell me that he's fed up with me and my stupid insecurities, but I need to tell him.

There's a painting of an owl lying around in my flat and the owl has grey and black feathers and amber eyes, and it's entirely his fault that the painting exists. If he'd never told me that not every piece of art needs to be enchanted, I'd never created it. I wouldn't have run off to Sendai either.

My thoughts have been revolving around him ever since I called him for the first time, but I was being a bitter asshole who didn't want to admit to it.

But I'm done being bitter. I'm done lamenting the fact that I'm mundane. It's high time for me to find something or someone that makes me happy, and Bokuto-san could be that someone.

 

***

 

Arriving in Tokyo, I have come to a decision. I will not be passive about this anymore. So far I've only taken the initiative when prompted to do so by others. Bokuto-san deserves better than that.

On the way to my flat I call Kuroo-san.

“Akaashi?” he asks confusedly. “Why are you calling me?”

“Do you know where Bokuto-san is? I sent him a couple of message a while ago, but he hasn't answered, so either he's ignoring me, or he hasn't seen them yet.”

“And your first thought is to call me and not him?” He sounds sceptical.

“I can't ask him if he's ignoring me, but I can ask you.”

“Well... I think he might be. He sent me a text about fifteen minutes ago, so he should've seen yours,” Kuroo-san says. “He appears to be at home and watching one of those depressing TV dramas.”

“Good. Can you tell me his address?”

“Why?”

“I'm not going to let him ignore me.”

There's a short pause, before I can hear Kuroo-san chuckle. “His chances are better than I expected them to be, aren't they?”

“It seems like I make good decisions when I'm drunk,” I reply dryly. Kuroo-san's chuckle turns into a roaring laugh.

“You guys are made for each other,” he says, sounding rather pleased. “I'll text you the adress.”

 

***

 

An hour later, I'm standing in front of Bokuto-san's block of flats and ring his bell. I made myself look presentable and I've brought the painting that kinda caused my freak out. It basically screams “I love you, Bokuto-san!” and that might be too much, but whatever. He inspired the painting, both the process and the subject, so it's his. I hope he gets what I want to say with it.

The crackling sound of the intercom reaches my ear and makes me turn my head.

“Who is it?” Bokuto-san sounds terrible, but that might be the terrible quality of his intercom. This is not a very pricey part of Tokyo he's living in.

“It's Akaashi. I want to talk to you.”

There's a strange noise that I can't interpret at all and then Bokuto-san mumbles something that vaguely sounds like “Wait a second, I'll let you in.”

“Which floor are you on?”

“Fifth. Flat number 57.”

It doesn't take me long to find it. I knock on his door and he opens it immediately. The way he looks confirms that it wasn't just the intercom that made him sound like a wreck. I've never seen him with his hair down and his eyes are red and puffy as if he's been crying. I've also never wanted to hug someone this badly. I don't like seeing him like this.

“Hello, Bokuto-san. Can I come in?”

“Uh, hi,” he mutters and steps aside to let me in.

I step on the heels of my shoes to get them off my feet quickly. “Sorry for the intrusion.”

He grumbles unintelligibly and walks through a door to my right. I follow him and find myself in his living room. There's surprisingly little art to be found here and the TV is still running. Kuroo-san was right when he said that Bokuto-san was watching a drama.

“I have something for you,” I say and hand over the painting. He frowns, leaning against the back of his couch.

“What... Did you paint this?” he asks, disbelievingly, as he takes a closer look at it.

I nod. “It's for you.”

“Are you sure?” I've heard that tone in his voice before, when I asked him about his exhibition. It's like he's afraid to get his hopes up.

“You're the only reason this painting exists, so... Yes, I'm very sure,” I say determinedly.

“I'm the reason...” He trails off and looks at me questioningly.

“You... You said that not every piece of art needs to be enchanted and I think I needed to hear that,” I explain, staring at the floor, because I'm suddenly very embarrassed. This is so stupid, but I'm not going to run away from it. These things need to be said. “When I graduated high school and still hadn't developed any powers, I realised that I never will. That... stung. It still does, especially when I see art from people like you and Kuroo-san. Being in your presence is like a constant reminder that I'm mundane, but I think I need that. So...”

I look up and am surprised by Bokuto-san's sudden proximity. I haven't even heard him move.

His face is so close to mine that I could probably count his eyelashes, if I wasn't too preoccupied with staring into the amber depths of his irises. How can a human being have such alluring eyes?

“I really like that painting,” he whispers, his breath touching my lips and his voice making me shiver. He doesn't particularly sound different from before, but it still feels different. The tension between us is suddenly unbearable.

Bokuto-san's eyes flicker down a little. Is he looking at my lips? I think he's looking at my lips. The information reaches my brain, but I don't know what to do with it. Should I close my eyes? Should I wait until he leans forward? What if he never does and we'll be stuck in this position forever? I'll never get used to this.

Maybe I should do something to relieve the tension myself. As I try to muster the courage to actually close my eyes and initiate the kiss, Bokuto-san gives in. It's just a short brush of lips against lips and my eyes are still open, but it's so sweet and careful that it leaves me breathless.

His eyes focus on mine again, wordlessly asking for permission to continue.

I swallow hard, trying to loosen the knot that has formed in my throat, but it doesn't help, so I give a simple nod instead and close my eyes.

He kisses me again, longer this time, with more confidence.

I like it.

I like _him_ – his crazy mood swings, the way he laughs, the way he's started to look at me for confirmation, how he's so over the top... There are already so many things I like about him and I definitely need to add the way he kisses to that list.

But there's still something I need to know. Kuroo-san might think that Bokuto-san likes me, but there's no guarantee that he's right.

“Bokuto-san,” I say as soon as he releases my mouth.

“Hm?” He raises his brows.

“What are we doing?” Okay that came out wrong.

“Uh, kissing?” Now he looks confused and I can't even blame him.

“Ugh, why are we kissing?” I ask, because I'm a coward who is only blunt when I'm not talking about feelings.

Bokuto-san looks at me like I'm stupid. “Why we're kissing?” he repeats. “Because it feels nice? I really don't know what you're getting at.”

Obviously, he is the stupid one. “Let me rephrase that – what does this kiss mean to you?”

“Oh,” he says and if I'm not mistaken, a blush is creeping up on his cheeks. “Well, I...” He trails off, but I'm not going to let go of the topic.

“You what?”

“I like kissing you?” It sounds more like a question than a statement and doesn't really make me feel any better about the situation, but before I can tell him that, he already goes on. “You are pretty and nice and good at art and also good at cheering me up. You're an amazing guy, is what I'm trying to say.”

I can't remember ever feeling as flustered as I do right now, but just because he thinks I'm “amazing” doesn't mean that he wants to date me. “That doesn't really answer my question.”

Bokuto-san makes a weird sound in the back of his throat and ducks his head. “Well, I also have a question for you. Why did you let me kiss you?”

The question makes me swallow hard. “Because I...” Shit, this is scary. It's been such a long time, since I've said these words to anyone. “I like you.”

His head snaps back up, his amber eyes wide as an owl's. “Oh.”

He blinks. Once. Twice.

“ _Oh_.” A smile breaks out across his face. “You could've said that earlier. I like you, too. Does that answer your question?”

I nod, because words are too hard right now.

“Does that mean we can be boyfriends?” Bokuto-san asks, voice brimming with barely restrained joy that doesn't match his puffy eyes.

“Yes,” I mumble. He smiles broadly.

“Great! So I can go back to kissing you?”

Instead of answering him with words, I put a hand on his cheek and place my mouth on his. Why was I ever reluctant to give him a chance? This kiss feels like heaven. It makes my knees weak and the butterflies in my stomach flutter. Now I know what Yaku and Lev mean when they say that I seemed to be enjoying myself when I was drunk that night. Of course I enjoyed Bokuto-san's presence and making out with him, because goodness gracious he knows what he's doing with that tongue.

When he steps around his couch and pulls me with him, it startles me. He notices the sharp intake of breath and looks at me worriedly.

“You alright?”

“Fine. Amazing, actually,” I mumble and turn us around, so he can sit down on the couch and I can sit on his lap, facing him. I close my eyes and lean in close.

“Before we continue this, though,” Bokuto-san suddenly interrupts, stopping me with a hand on my shoulder, “I want you to promise me one thing.”

I'm a little annoyed to be honest, but I open my eyes anyway. “And that one thing would be...”

“That you won't forget that this happened.”

I can't tell if he's honestly afraid of that or if he's purposely trying to get on my nerves, so I try to keep my answer neutral. “You are not a random student at my office anymore and I'm sober. Chances are I will remember this for the rest of my life. Is that good enough?”

He chuckles and puts his hand on my cheek. Almost instinctively, I lean into the touch.

“I really like you, Akaashi,” he says. “Ever since I first met you.”

“I like you, too.” More than I've liked anyone since I came to Tokyo.

Bokuto-san opened my eyes. He made me realise that my art has worth, even if it's not imbued with magic. Thanks to him, I finally realised that _I_ am fine the way I am, that I don't need magic to be a happy and productive member of society. I can make up my own definition of happiness.

Happiness is having a job that earns me enough money and offers free time to pursue my hobby. Happiness is having friends that care about me. Happiness is sitting on Bokuto Kōtarō's lap, kissing him until we're both dizzy from lack of oxygen.

 

***

 

We end up cuddling on his couch. It's not exactly comfortable, because there's not enough space, but fuck moving. I won't let go of Bokuto-san if I can help it. He's curled up around me, face pressed into my hair, his arms wrapped around me so I don't accidentally fall off the couch.

The fact that we're a couple now is slowly starting to sink in. I want to drown myself in this feeling, this warmth–

“Akaashi?” Bokuto-san interrupts my thoughts.

“Hm?”

“I'm sorry that I ignored your texts.”

The warm feeling is gone.

“Why did you ignore me?”

He groans and squeezes me tightly. “I thought that maybe you were just... I don't know. It's silly, but I thought you were just messing with me.”

I can feel the corner of my left eye twitch. I'm not sure if I'm irritated with myself or him, so I just let it slide. I bury my face in his chest, sighing deeply.

This guy is going to end me, but who cares? I'm finally happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They are both idiots <3
> 
> [](http://gilrael.tumblr.com>my%20tumblr</href>)


	7. Beginning

I missed the last train and had to stay over at Bokuto-san's, and here I am, getting up at 6 a.m., so I can go home and get ready for work on time. Bokuto-san is awfully cheerful this early in the morning, whistling happily while he's making breakfast.

This will definitely take some getting used to. I've never been a morning person.

“You really didn't need to make breakfast,” I say, when he puts down a plate in front of me. He used ketchup to draw owls on the omelets. Somehow I'm not surprised.

“But I wanted to,” he insists, flopping down on the chair across from me. “When do you have to be at work again?”

“The students' office opens at 8 a.m.”

I take a bite and it's actually quite good. When I tell Bokuto-san, he looks very pleased with himself. It's easy to make him happy.

 

***

 

It's a rather uneventful morning at the office. There are two first year students who need help with their online schedule, but other than that there's not much else to do. The application period is over and there haven't been any tests or exams yet, which basically means that Yaku and I get paid for sitting around and talking, when nobody is having trouble with the online systems.

“Did something happen when you were back home?” Yaku asks after a while.

“Huh? Not really. Everything's fine.” I shrug. “I visited my family and an old friend of mine. He recently took over the café of his uncle.”

“You're just awfully cheerful today,” Yaku remarks matter-of-factly.

My eyes go wide as realisation dawns on me – I haven't told him yet, have I?

“Oh fuck, I totally forgot to tell you.” I can't help the chuckle that escapes me. It's felt so freaking natural to wake up with Bokuto-san, even if he's too much of a morning person... Ugh, I'm acting like a teenager. “Uh... I spent the night at Bokuto-san's.”

“Why the heck didn't you tell me?!” Yaku sounds pissed. “We're friends, for god's sake!”

“Sorry!”

“You get laid after god knows how many years, and you don't even think to mention it?”

Groaning, I rest my head on the desk in front of me. “It's not been _that_ long...” Yaku knows too much about my sex life. Well, he was my flatmate for a long time, so I guess it should be expected.

“So... You and him are together now?” Yaku asks.

“Yes, we are.” Thinking about it makes me feel all fuzzy inside.

“Ha!” Yaku pulls out his phone. “I need to tell Inuoka that he owes me and Lev five-hundred yen each.”

“Why?” I look up at him in surprise.

“He bet that it would take you at least three months to admit your feelings to Bokuto,” Yaku explains, while typing on his phone. “Lev and I said that it won't take you longer than one and a half months.”

“And you guys call yourselves my friends,” I mutter, but I can't keep the fondness out of my voice.

 

***

 

From: Bokuto Kōtarō

> Want to have dinner with Kuroo, Kenma and me? I'm cooking ^(ÔvÔ)^

 

I'm on my way out of the office when I get his text. Seeing him would be nice, but this time around I'll need to pack an extra set of clothing, just in case.

 

To: Bokuto Kōtarō

> i need to go home first, but i can be at your place in an hour

 

From: Bokuto Kōtarō

> Awesome!

 

***

 

The more time I spend with Bokuto-san, the more I realise that he's probably just as insecure about his art as I am. In a way that is reassuring. But it's also hugely annoying when he shuts himself in his bedroom and won't come out, because he “doesn't deserve to be called an artist”. Sometimes I talk to him until he opens the door for me and then, usually, we'll make out and he'll be fine afterwards. At other times it's useless to reason with him.

Today is one of those days, so I just it down in front of his TV and wait. We've been together for almost a month now, so I know that he'll leave his room eventually and when he does he'll need a hug.

I flip through the TV channels, trying to find something that will occupy my brain enough to not die of boredom. I settle on a documentary about bees and then my phone chimes.

 

From: Kuroo Tetsurō

> Did you manage to snap him out of it?

 

Kuroo-san was the one who alerted me to the situation after Bokuto-san ran out of their studio.

 

To: Kuroo Tetsurō

> i'm playing the waiting game

 

From: Kuroo Tetsurō

> All hail Akaashi-sama the patient!

 

I snort at the stupid title he bestowed upon me and put my phone away again. I like Bokuto-san's friends. Kuroo-san can be a bit of an ass at times, but he cares about people and will never let his friends down. With Kenma-san I get along especially well, because we have a lot in common. We're both mundane people in a relationship with exuberant magicians who only think about art. He knows my plight.

 

***

 

An hour later, when I have heard more about the “waggle dance” than I ever cared to know, Bokuto-san finally joins me on the couch. He leans against my shoulder with an exaggerated sigh. Softly, I brush my hands through his hair.

“You done acting like a five-year-old?” I ask and earn an angry grumble in response.

“You're supposed to be sympathetic.”

I turn my head, so I can place a kiss on his cheek. Bokuto-san hums contentedly and turns his focus on the TV.

“What are you watching?”

“Bees.”

He chuckles and grabs the remote. “Let's watch something else.”

It's nice being with him, easy somehow. He makes me happy.

I don't know for how long this relationship will last, but this is only the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the kudos, comments etc! I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it :)  
> Follow me on [tumblr](http://gilrael.tumblr.com) if you like Haikyuu!! and One punch man.


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